A Hot Bath Can Work Wonders
by Pink Tinted Monocle
Summary: Jimmy walks in on Thomas while the under butler is getting out of the bath and gets an eyeful of his arse. Which Jimmy can then not stop thinking about.


**A Hot Bath Can Work Wonders**

**For eatingmoonflowers, who wanted a fic where Jimmy sees Thomas' bum and can't stop thinking about it. This prompt has been bugging me for a few days now, so I sat down and speed wrote this this evening. I don't know if anyone else has filled this already – apologies if you have, but I hope you enjoy this one too **

Jimmy took the steps downstairs two at a time, trying his very best to block out the unpleasant sensation of cold soup that had seeped through the front of his livery and was now running slimily down his chest.

There had been an unfortunate incident during the dinner service that evening. After the first course Jimmy had picked up her Ladyship's empty bowl and turned right, just as Mr Molesley had relived Lady Edith of her untouched broth and turned left. The pair had collided, and both men had lost their grip on their bowls – but while Jimmy's bowl had just dropped to the floor before rolling innocently away across the room, Molesley's had tipped forwards, coating Jimmy and a sizable section of the carpet in thick red soup.

A small commotion had followed – a furious Carson had surged forward to take charge of the situation while Mr Molesley had stuttered an apology and the family had uttered cries of surprise and shock. After a few minutes of confusion, in which Molesley futilely tried to clean Jimmy's dress shirt with a napkin and the Dowager wondered aloud if they would ever be able to get the soup stains off the carpet, Jimmy was excused from the rest of the dinner service and was sent downstairs to clean up.

Jimmy stormed along the corridor to the bathroom, fuming silently. His current soup-soaked state was just the icing on the cake of what had been a truly awful week; he had lost three shillings in a game of cards down the pub on Tuesday, been horribly hung-over on Wednesday and had tripped and fallen over a grass verge in the village on his half-day on Thursday, ruining the knees of his best suit. And to make it all even worse Mr Barrow had been sick all week with a bad cold, so he hadn't even had anyone to share his woes with.

Lost in such troubled thoughts, Jimmy didn't even think to check if there was someone else already occupying the bathroom – he just threw open the door, walked in and was greeted by the sight Mr Barrow's arse waving in the air as the under butler bent to pick up a towel. Startled by the sound of the door, Thomas let loose a string of profanities before grabbing the towel and wrapping it tightly around his waist as Jimmy (somewhat belatedly) brought his hands up to cover his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mr Barrow. I – ah – ". Jimmy paused, not knowing what to say. Apparently Mr Barrow didn't know either, for there was a moment of silence before Thomas spoke in a broken whisper. "Oh God, _Jimmy_. What the hell has happened?"

Jimmy lowered his hands. He had been expecting anger, not the fear that was evident in Thomas' voice. For a second he wondered why on earth the under butler was staring at him with such horrified concern - then he remembered the red liquid splattered down his front.

"Oh! No, it's – ah – it's just _soup_. It were Molesley at dinner, he spilt it and I came down to - uh – to wash it off."

"Are you burnt?"

"What?"

"From the _soup_, are you burnt?"

"No, no it was cold."

"Good. Thank God." Said Thomas, letting out an audible sigh of relief before his look of horror was replaced by one of irritation. "So if you're not bleeding or burnt, why exactly did you feel the need to burst in here looking for all the world like the ghost of Jacob Marley?"

"I'm so sorry, Mr Barrow, I didn't know you were in here. I should have knocked-"

"Yes, you should have done!" Thomas snapped, crossing his arms defensively across his chest and frowning at Jimmy for a moment before his expression softened and he sighed. "I'm nearly done in here. Just thought a hot bath might help me cold, although I think I'll probably be off for another week after that shock! Just wait outside for a minute while I finish up."

"Yes, of course." Jimmy replied weakly, stepping out of the room and closing the door. He stood rooted to the spot, absolutely mortified. The soup didn't seem like much of a bother anymore.

After a few minutes Thomas exited the bathroom, clutching his robe around him. Jimmy shuffled forwards and Thomas turned to walk away, but Jimmy stopped him with a touch to his arm. "I'm so sorry, Mr Barrow."

Thomas shot him a weak smile. "It's fine. Just remember to knock next time – I don't think Carson would be quite as understanding if you ever burst in on him while he were on the privy."

Jimmy nodded and smiled softly back. "Right. I'll bear that in mind. I hope you feel better soon, Thomas."

"Me too", the under-butler replied, before walking away. Jimmy let himself into the bathroom, closed the door firmly behind him and sank to the floor, head in his hands. "_Fuck."_

By the time Jimmy raised his head most of the steam left over from Thomas' bath had dissipated, so the footman stood up and made his way over to the mirror to check out the damage to his livery. It was bad. His entire torso was bright red and there were even flecks of the stuff in his _hair._ He pulled a face. A quick wash would do no good here – he was in need of a soak.

He ran a hot bath, shed his clothes and stepped in. As he squirmed from the heat and tried to get comfy, he noticed a small clear vial of liquid that had been left on the side. Perhaps it belonged to Thomas. Jimmy picked it up and sniffed it – it had a fresh, soapy aroma. Figuring he needed all the help he could get to make himself clean, Jimmy poured a little in to the water and splashed it around until there was a good layer of bubbles before reclining back and sighing in relief.

There are few things as relaxing in life as a bubble bath, and Jimmy soon felt all of his troubles melt away. Well, almost all of them. He couldn't quite shake the guilt he felt at giving Mr Barrow such a shock – the look of sheer terror that had spread across Thomas' features when he thought that Jimmy was injured kept resurfacing in his mind. _No, don't think of that. Think of something else. Anything else. What about that new play with Phyllis Dare that's openin' in York next week. Or that suit in that shop in Ripon that you might get on your next half-day. Or -_

Unbidden, a different image rose up in Jimmy's mind – that of Mr Barrow's behind, and he felt his cock twitch. Normally Jimmy would have tried valiantly to ignore such thoughts, but he was drained from the events of the evening and so very relaxed in his bath that he found he just didn't have the energy to repress his feelings, not tonight. So he closed his eyes and let the image of Thomas' posterior linger as his cock grew hard. He started to stoke himself.

Thomas had a good arse. Firm and round but also a little soft – Jimmy imagined that if he pressed his hands against it his fingers would sink into the flesh, just slightly. It was also mostly hairless, which pleased Jimmy – he found few things as off-putting as an overly hairy arse. Of the small number of bottoms that Jimmy had seen in his life it definitely ranked high. Very high indeed.

A fantastical scenario began to play out in Jimmy's head. Him and Thomas, alone upstairs in one of the posh bedrooms, slowly undressing each other. Thomas roughly kissing his lips and neck before turning around and bending over, letting Jimmy rub his cock over his arse before dipping it into the cleft between his buttocks and pressing up against Thomas' hole –

Jimmy came with a soft grunt and sank down further into the cooling water, enjoying the after-shocks of his orgasm. The water was stone cold before he got out.

It was late by the time Jimmy entered the servant's hall, but most of his fellow staff members were still there. Molesley stood up as soon as he walked in, offering another profound apology. Jimmy gave him a curt nod and grimaced. "It's done now, isn't it? Just – just try not to do it again, eh, Mr Molesley?"

"Right, yes, no, of course. Sorry James."

Jimmy sat down at the table and lit a cigarette. He pulled a newspaper towards him, but just as he was about to start reading Daisy approached him carrying a steaming mug and a bowl of sponge pudding.

"Mrs Patmore said you could 'ave these on account of what happened earlier. She thought you might be in need of a hot drink and a bit of puddin'."

Jimmy smiled up at the cook. "Thank you, Daisy."

"I heard you had a bad night, James.", Mr Bates commented teasingly from across the room.

Jimmy popped a large spoonful of pudding in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully for a minute. He swallowed and shrugged. "Not that bad, Mr Bates. Not really that bad at all."


End file.
